The Fall From Grace Is Like A Skinned Knee, But Painful All The Same

Poem By Amanda Saveley

***For my dear friend Agnes, who has reignited my desire to spread my voice to the outer distance...because the earth has no corners.***

Winter, you're gunning for me
With each passing hour
I feel your frosted breath at my back
Making my limbs stiffen
Though I've gained wisdom to make words deep
My voice is strained, it cracks
And breaks the message I knew not in youth,
When I was drunk on ignorance
And blurred with lies

Winter, you have pushed the 'sharpen' button on my life's photo editor.
You've made all too clear,
Making sure not to photoshop the truthful lines
That have already begun to crease my brow
With each passing second,
Technology increases,
And I'm finding new ways to die.

So click that 'delete' button,
And freeze the 'restore' option in my recycle bin.
Right click, drag, and dropp me out
Come to me in old school style,
Reaper in black, scythe drawn,
With skeletal fingers, grasp my withered hand
And lead me to the unknown
I will not fight you.

Winter, my Winter...
Come close my eyes
And place a penny on my lips
For money's the language I've been forced to learn
In this technologically-advanced social stratus
We're trying to learn how to fight you,
But you're the one thing that can't be beat.

You're the fight that I will lose...

So come, come for me.
I will be waiting,
Like a leaf poised at the end of a feeble twig,
Waiting for wind,
Ready for Winter,

Poised to fall.

Comments about The Fall From Grace Is Like A Skinned Knee, But Painful All The Same

You very more than right about how I'd come to feel about this poem. It's absolutely fantastiv, and just as you say 'money's the language I've been forced to learn', money is societys way to control us, to make the rules, to keep their power up. I am incrediebly happy you dedicated this poem to me, for this is the struggle I, just as you, must never give up. An incredieble portrait of a terrible truth.

Other poems of SAVELEY

Confessions Of A Bound Soul

Brother, my brother,
How selfish was I
While you seemed to struggle,
I sat idly by

I Tried...

All is fair in love and war
I wish I could believe
Maybe then I'd not don a shield
Instead of my heart on my sleeve

His Hands...

His hands...
I watch them intently,
Waiting for what secrets they might unfold
Beneath those fingers that grip the pen

God Is Out To Lunch, Please Take A Number

I'm done hating You now.
I accept that which I cannot change
And acknowledge the self-infliction
I understand as much as I can

Is There Life After Love (After Lie) ?

Is there a life after love?
Can there be love after lies?
My entire delusion
Fed by your illusions

How Do You Stop To Smell A Rose When You Are Without A Nose?

Life is...fleeting...
Moments fly like butterflies and passing thoughts
No one considers
In this endless line of seemingly continous patterns